


take what you need, darling (i'm just here for you)

by callmelover



Category: Harry Styles - Fandom, Louis Tomlinson - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: ...awkward uni boys who are exes but still madly in love..., Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Asthmatic Harry Styles, Exes, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Louis Tomlinson is Protective of Harry Styles, M/M, Niall Horan & Harry Styles Friendship, Past Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Past Relationship(s), Sick Character, Sickfic, and finally a lil bit of, even if they're broken up, harry is louis' baby, sickfic but with a plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:47:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27750262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmelover/pseuds/callmelover
Summary: There was a time, not long ago, when Harry would immediately go to Louis the second something was wrong in search of comfort. It wasn’t like that anymore, though. After Louis’I’m Not Ready For Commitmentfreakout, the two boys parted ways. He just needed space, that’s what Louis told Harry. They wouldn’t be apart forever. Louis quickly realized that even a minute apart from Harry felt like forever.⭒Or, the one where Louis and Harry have an unexpected run-in that isn't quite how they planned to reunite after their breakup...
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 24
Kudos: 56





	1. give me the worst of you to hold

**Author's Note:**

> um...did i write another sickfic? yes. IM SORRY OKAY. this one has more plot to it tho so it's less of a fluffy, plotless hurt/comfort fic and more of a post-breakup, awkward, uncomfortable uni au....it's better than it sounds, i swear. 
> 
> ⭒
> 
> title from "life worth living" by LAUREL

There was a time, not long ago, when Harry would immediately go to Louis the second something was wrong in search of comfort. It wasn’t like that anymore, though. After Louis’ I’m Not Ready For Commitment freakout, the two boys parted ways. He just needed space, that’s what Louis told Harry, they wouldn’t be apart forever. Louis quickly realized that even a minute apart from Harry felt like forever.

So when Louis goes to Niall’s dorm that night to have a drink with him and catch up, he isn’t prepared for Harry to be there. He certainly isn’t prepared for Harry to be there, looking dead on his feet, curled up on Niall’s sofa with tear tracks staining his cheeks and a Rudolph red nose, looking smaller and sadder than Louis’ ever seen him look in the ten years they’ve known each other.

It’s hard to miss how terrible Harry looks.

The boy’s eyes are glossed over and hazy, to the point where they don’t even look like his crystal clear, green-as-the-forest eyes. They have a darkness under them that looks like a black and blue; like someone pressed their thumbs right below his eyes until they bruised. His skin pale and breathing heavy and shallow at the same time. 

“Oh,” is the only thing Louis can squeak out when he opens the door, ever so eloquent. 

Harry whines at the sound, and squeezes his eyes shut against the fluorescent hallway light shining in from the doorway. “Ni.”

Louis frantically looks around, though he’s not really sure what he’s looking for. Niall, probably. Where is Niall? Why isn’t Niall here? Shouldn’t Niall be home? Okay, yeah, he’s definitely looking for Niall. He needs Niall. Like, right the fuck now.

“‘s not Ni, sorry,” he finally answers. “Um, I’m just gonna...I’m gonna go. Didn’t mean to barge in, er, sorry.”

Harry’s eyes fly open when he finally realizes who’s talking. It’s the fastest Harry has moved in probably five days and his head shoots a blinding pain when his eyes readjust to the light. Oh God. That’s Louis’ voice. It’s Louis. 

“No. No, no. Niall. Need Niall,” Harry’s voice is watery and so, so sad. He can’t deal with the pain in his head and his chest and his bones and his fucking _everywhere_. And definitely not with the pain of seeing Louis. 

Fuck. Louis is fucked. He wants nothing more than to run away and not have to face Harry - especially a sick, sad Harry. He wants to find Niall and yell at him for not telling him Harry was in his dorm, and then he wants to get drunk in the privacy of his own dorm so he can wallow in his lonesome. But Louis isn’t a bad person. He knows he shouldn’t leave Harry alone like this. 

Y’know what, no, it’s fine. This is fine. Louis is mature and brave and a good friend. Harry’s friend. He’s still Harry’s friend. He can do this.

“I don’t know where Niall is, lad,” Lad? What the fuck is he doing? “Let me give him a ring, yeah? Do you know where he is?”

Harry blinks at Louis, who is still awkwardly standing by the door. He tries to remember where Niall went, but his mind feels like it’s in a cloud and he can’t seem to remember anything. He’s not even sure he can remember his own name if someone asked. His eyes well up, a single tear rolls off his cheek and onto the cushion beneath him. 

Louis takes Harry’s silence as a no. “Okay, it’s okay, um. Everything’s okay. Let me call Ni and see where he’s gone and he’ll be back in no time I’m sure.”

He finally walks into the dorm and closes the door behind him. The room is nearly pitch dark with the door shut, only a little sunlight peaks over the horizon as it sets, bleeding in through the slit in between the closed curtains. Harry must be really ill. Shit. Louis pulls his phone out of his back pocket and clicks on Niall’s contact with shaky, nervous hands. 

“Hey, Lou! I’m picking up some things at the shop right now, but I’ll be back on campus soon. We still on for tonight? How’s 6?” Niall’s voice is bright and cheery and Louis wants to cry.

“Niall,” he whispers, not wanting to hurt Harry’s clearly aching head more. “I just finished at my last lecture. I, um, I’m at your place...thought you’d be home. But, er, you’re not. So, uh…”

“Oh,” the excitement in Niall’s voice immediately vanishes when he catches on to what Louis is trying to tell him. “Right. Um, I wasn’t expecting you to stop by so early.”

Louis wants to be mad at Niall but the rational voice in his mind tells him that he’s the one who came unannounced. “My fault for coming early, shouldn’t have just popped in like that. Harry’s here,” he states dumbly.

“I- Yes. Harry is there,” the guilt in Niall’s voice is practically tangible, “He’s been really poorly for the past few days and Liam- d'ya know Liam? His roommate? Or, never mind, doesn’t matter- um, and Harry’s been alone. So, like, I didn’t want something to happen when no one was there…”

Poor Niall sounds like he’s trying to explain himself to his primary school principal after he got in trouble. The guilt hits Louis then, too. Ever since his and Harry’s split, their friends have been caught in the crossfire, walking on eggshells to keep them apart and keep everything as un-tense and un-awkward as possible. This is all Louis’ fault. He makes a mental note to give a proper apology to their friends. His mind is wandering. Harry. This is about Harry.

“It’s not your fault, Ni...I was calling because, uh, Harry wants you?” Louis feels a little embarrassed about how high and nervous his voice sounds but he can’t help it. He _is_ nervous. “He couldn’t remember where you went and he’s- he really wants you.”

Louis hears Niall swear under his breath, but his response is interrupted by a choked sound and a coughing fit. “Come back as soon as you can please.” With that, Louis hangs up the phone and goes to Harry’s side.

“Okay, okay. You’re okay. Let’s sit up, yeah? You need to get some air into your lungs, Harry.” Louis has helped Harry through countless asthma attacks, so he has a few tricks up his sleeve. Harry was always able to breathe better when he was sitting upright, opening his airways. But is he allowed to touch Harry? All Louis wants to do is touch him. He wants to rub circles into his back and rest his hand on his chest, the pressure being a silent reminder that he’s here and he cares and he loves him. Wait. Fuck. Shit. No. Not love. He can’t.

Harry attempts to use one arm to hoist himself up but immediately collapses back into the couch. He wants to sit up, he wants to do what Louis is asking. Air. He wants air. “Sit,” is what he manages to croak out.

“I’ll help you sit up, no worries, I can help, okay.” 

Louis slips his arms under Harry’s armpits and pulls him up. Louis ignores the spark of love and electricity he feels when he touches Harry. God, he hasn't had any physical contact with Harry in months. 

His skin is burning and damp with feverish sweat, but Louis never wants to let go. 

He does. 

“Louis,” Harry croaks. It’s the first time he’s shown that he knows who’s there. The first time he’s said Louis’ name. “ _Please_.”

The desperation in Harry’s tone is so vulnerable and innocent and Louis hates it. His heart hurts. “Please? Please what, mate? I- I don’t know what you need.”

Harry’s eyes tear up again in a way that makes his eyelashes clump together and one more tear rolls down his face. Louis doesn’t think he’s ever seen Harry so ill. And Jesus Christ, why isn’t Niall back yet?

Harry starts coughing again, this time it’s deeper and crackly. Louis hopes being sat up makes it hurt at least a little bit less. Harry covers his mouth with one fist and brings his other hand to his chest. He’s clawing at his throat and hitting his fist on his chest and he can’t calm down. He can’t breathe. There are tears blurring his vision again but this time it’s from how violent and painful his coughs are. His body jolts forward after a particularly powerful cough and, if it weren’t for Louis standing in front of him, he would have faceplanted onto the cement floor below him. He’s able to inhale, albeit shakily and unevenly, after a moment, but that somehow doesn’t make him feel better. His head swims and vision fuzzes into a bright white light. He’s going to pass out. A rush of freezing cold travels from the tip of his spine to his feet, all the while feeling as if he’s on fire. 

“Fuck,” Louis hisses, holding all of Harry’s deadweight and doing his best to not drop the boy. “Jesus, Harry. Have you seen a doctor? How long have you been feeling like this? This sounds pretty fuckin’ bad.”

Harry’s chest heaves with deep, shuddery breaths; he can finally breathe and he’s certainly not taking it for granted. “Dunno...Um, think five days? Six? I ‘aven’t been sleeping, m’sleep schedule’s all messed up, so I...I don’t know how many days. Um.”

“Niall said you’ve been staying with him for a few days, hm? Has he taken you to the campus clinic to get you checked out?”

Biting his lip, Harry tries to remember. He feels sicker than he’s ever felt before and even thinking takes too much energy. “Dunno,” he answers again. Why does Louis keep asking him all these questions? “No.”

Louis isn’t sure that he trusts Harry’s answers, but he nods along. “Okay, well Niall should be back soon and then he can take you to the clinic. I think they’ll be able to help you feel better.”

“I...I don’t like the d-doctor’s,” Harry’s voice cracks as he speaks, “Am scared.”

Louis sighs. He should have known Harry wouldn’t want to go. He thinks back to the time when Harry’s asthma was acting up and he had to go to an appointment to get a new medication and Harry almost had a panic attack in the waiting room. “I know you don’t like it, but you’re really ill. I don’t think I’ve seen you so poorly, Haz”

Harry whines and looks like he’s going to cry. 

Louis doesn’t know if it’s because he doesn’t feel well or because of the nickname Louis accidentally let slip.

He doesn’t want to know.

Fast footsteps are heard in the hall and Louis whips his head towards the door. Niall. Thank God. Harry doesn’t react to the commotion, which certainly doesn’t comfort Louis.

“Harry,” Niall immediately jogs over to Harry, “Harry, mate. I’m so sorry I left ya here alone. You told me you were feeling better, I wouldn’t have gone to the chemist if I knew you were feeling worse, babes. Lou- er, Louis phoned and said you wanted me. Did something happen?”  
When Harry finally acknowledges Niall’s presence, it takes no time for him to burst into tears, a painful sob ripping through his raw throat. He swats at Niall’s chest until the Irish boy realizes he wants a hug. Niall crouches down to Harry’s level and scoops him into his arms gently. Harry continues to cry into his shoulder, and his previously stuffy nose starts to run instead. Louis is standing awkwardly, but figures he should make himself even slightly useful, so he pops out of the dorm to go to the communal toilet down the hall in hopes of finding some tissues. Louis’ face softens when he sees the tissue box. It’s pink with cute, little strawberries printed on it. It’s obvious Harry bought them. There’s no way any of these obnoxious uni blokes that just ooze toxic masculinity would buy the box and his heart clenches when he imagines Harry running to the shop to buy tissues and walking past the adorable patterned box. He can practically see the way Harry’s eyes must have lit up when he saw it on the shelf. Niall probably gave him a hard time when he brought it back to their hall, but would have given in to Harry’s irresistible puppy dog eyes.

Fuck, he misses Harry.

“Lou,” Niall’s shout snaps him out of his pity party. “Fuck, Louis. I need your help.”

His heart rate spikes when he hears that and runs out of the bathroom, completely forgetting about the stupidly precious Kleenex. He’s back at Harry and Niall’s dormroom in record time. “What? What? What’s going on?”

His question answers itself when he hears the heavy wheezes coming from Harry, who is now standing up, leaning all of his weight on Niall. His eyes are half closed and bleary and his body shakes with every heaving breath. 

“Niall, shit, Niall! Where is his inhaler? Jesus Christ.”

“I don’t- I don’t know. I don’t know where it is Louis. Bloody hell, I’m a terrible friend,” Niall blubbers. “Oh, God. Fucking God. Where is it, Harry? I need you to tell me. Please.”

Harry tries to talk but splutters around the words. He’s panting and sweating and wheezing and his chest feels like it’s being squeezed shut. He shakes his head against Niall and gives up. His knees buckle and his body weight drags Niall down with him.

“Call 999, Louis. Now.”

The oldest boy feels frozen. He hasn’t seen Harry in months and the first time he sees him again, he’s blacking out and gasping for breath. This is not how he wanted this to happen.

“Louis! Now!” Niall yells again, more firmly.

Louis nods numbly and unlocks his phone, dialling 999.

“999, where is your emergency?” A soft, feminine voice picks up.

“Uh, um, I’m at the University of Leeds, at Lyddon Hall. I need- we need an ambulance, please. My friend is having an asthma attack, he’s really sick. Please just send someone. Please.”

“Okay, sir. Stay calm for your friend. An ambulance has been dispatched.”

“O-okay, thanks. Um, thank you,” Louis’ voice shakes. This is very well the most scared he’s ever been. He risks a glance at Harry and immediately regrets it. His lips are tinted blue and Niall is freely sobbing at this point.

“Help is on the way, sir. Your friend will be okay. It’s okay.”

Louis doesn’t know if he believes her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im thinking of making this multiple chapters and making it into more of a short story than a oneshot. lmk if you want more of this au by commenting or leaving kudos!! i hope you enjoyed the read and it wasnt too awful dhsjd ♡


	2. the sweet feeling of relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "W-who– Who- else is here?" 
> 
> Niall briefly thinks about lying to Harry but when he looks him in the eyes, he knows he can't do that. Lying would hurt him more than the truth. He scratches the back of his neck anxiously before whispering a single word. "Louis."
> 
> Harry's reactions are slow and languid, but they're there. He shrinks into himself and takes his hand from Niall's. A feeling of betrayal sits on his chest and makes him feel like he can't breathe all over again.

"Louis, if you don't fucking sit down," Niall snaps, "You're going to end up as Harry's hospital roomie if you don't stop moving."

Louis winces at Niall's tone but brushes it off. They're both just stressed. He doesn't mean it. And, well, he has a point. Since Harry was admitted a couple of hours ago, Louis can't recall if he's sat down for more than a few seconds in those two hours. He can't seem to find a single fiber of him that is calm enough to sit still. He's too scared. Every time he stops moving and fidgeting enough for his thoughts to start creeping back, he can't unsee what happened. He'll start seeing Harry's face again every time he blinks. 

The sounds of the horrible wheezing while he chokes.

The sight of spit dribbling down his blue lips while his throat closes. 

The nauseating smell of antiseptic in the hospital while they're forced to wait in the sterile waiting room.

Why can't they go see Harry? Why won't the doctors let them in? Why is it taking so fucking long?

"Are either of you Nicholas Grimshaw?" A nurse's voice breaks the suffocating silence.

Niall and Louis share the same shocked look. 

Nick? Fucking _Grimshaw?_

"Sorry, is that a no?" The nurse presses. "Do you know Nicholas Grimshaw, then?"

"I- No. Neither of us are Nick," Niall finally answers. "Um. We do know Nick, yes. Is he- Did Harry ask for him?"

The nurse shakes his head. "No, Mr. Styles is still sedated. Mr. Grimshaw is listed as Mr. Styles' emergency contact."

Louis wants to scream.

"Oh," Niall looks almost as startled as Louis. "I don't think Nick is, um, around. Can you talk to us?"

"Sorry kids, I'd either need permission from Mr. Styles, which isn't plausible right now, or I'd need permission from Mr. Grimshaw," the nurse looks apologetic as he explains the rules, "Until Harry wakes, I'm afraid I can't share his medical records."

Louis silently slips out of the sliding doors and heads towards the parking lot. He needs some fresh air. 

And a cigarette. 

Or two. 

Or ten. 

On his way out of the hospital, he almost bumps into a crying man who's rushing his baby inside and Louis finds himself tearing up too. He thinks about the millions of conversations Harry had started about having a baby. He's supposed to be with Harry. They're supposed to have a baby. They're supposed to get married and buy a house and have kids and pets and a white picket fence. They're supposed to be _HarryandLouis_.

But they're not _HarryandLouis_. Not anymore. 

They're Harry and Louis.

That thought makes him want to cry more.

He tries not to think about Harry for even just a second, but it's nearly impossible. His eyelashes are clumping together with the wetness of his tears and his heart aches. His mind is swirling like he's looking into a kaleidoscope that's surrounding him with Harry. It's always Harry.

The smoke burns when he inhales and he holds it in his chest for as long as possible. Louis' sure there's a twisted metaphor for him smoking in a hospital parking lot. There are dozens of people inside that hospital who can't breathe on their own and Louis at least has half a mind to feel guilt tug at his chest. _Harry_ is in there because he can't breathe. The harsh reminder is enough to nauseate him, and he has to slide down the wall to sit in order to keep from losing his lunch on the sidewalk. 

Nick.

Harry changed his emergency contact from Louis to fucking Nick.

He feels nauseous again.

Louis knows that he hasn't been in Harry's life and that his bitterness is unjust, but he also knows how much of an absolute wanker Nick is to Harry. Out of all the people Harry could go to, he chose Grimmy. He needs to have a chat with Niall and see if he knows anything about this. 

It doesn't feel fair. 

Louis was there when Harry quietly told him he thought he was gay. He was there when Harry proudly told him he _knew_ he was gay. 

Louis was there when Harry first met Nick. He remembers the day he got a phone call from a bright, bubbly Harry who excitedly told him Nick had asked him out on a date— _A real proper date, Lou! Can you believe that? He's so fun and fit and he asked_ me _out!_ — Louis had tried his best to match Harry's happy tone, but his heart had broken. He had glanced over to the lone rose that he had bought the day before that he was going to give to Harry that evening. He pulled all the petals off and let quiet tears fall as he listened to Harry ramble about Nick.

Louis was there when Nick broke Harry's heart. He was there when Harry showed up to his flat that night. Harry had run in the rain from his dorm all the way to Louis' place off campus, sobbing the whole time. He was there when Harry finally mumbled two words that made Louis the angriest he'd ever felt. _He cheated._

And now, Louis is here while Harry lies sedated in a hospital bed. He's here now and knows that Nick has somehow convinced Harry to crawl back to him. He's here now and loves Harry more than ever.

His pathetic breakdown is interrupted by someone clearing their throat. Louis swipes at his eyes to attempt to hide the tears and looks up to see Niall.

"Hey," he looks awkward and tense. "So, um, Harry's awake. The doctor asked him if he could share his information and Harry gave him permission. You don't have to come back in if you don't want, but if you want to see Harry now, we can."

It's Louis' turn to look awkward. "No, no. I want to- I'd like to talk to the doctor, see if he's okay. I don't really know if Harry wants to see me, so I'll wait in the hall. I would like to chat with the doctor just to check on him, though. If that'd be alright?"

"Of course, Lou. Yeah, come in. I can go in and let him know you're here? Catch him up to speed if he doesn't remember much, y'know? Maybe he will want to see you."

Louis looks skeptical but nods. "Sure, okay."

The two boys walk through the winding corridors together in an uncomfortable silence. Neither of them dare to bring up the whole Emergency Contact Nick situation. Louis is more than fine with that. He'd like to forever continue pretending that they had never heard it in the first place. Ignorance is bliss. Right?

When they finally reach Harry's room, Niall shifts on his feet nervously and nods towards the door. "I'm just gonna..."

"Yeah, yeah. Go on," Louis rushes out before he can think about how he has to wait outside and not see Harry. "I'll be here. Just- Yeah. Just let me know if you need anythin'."

Niall smiles tightly, sympathy and unease apparent in his face, before nodding one last time and opening the door and heading inside.

The first thing Niall sees when he enters the room is a Friends rerun playing on the dinosaur of a TV on the wall. It's always been Harry's go-to comfort show and a smile (a real one, this time) makes its way onto Niall's face. The smile is short lived though when he sees Harry. He looks better than before, physically, but now he has tubes and wires and needles and inhalers and IVs. It's so much and it scares Niall.

Harry's unfocused eyes manage to land on Niall's and his lips twitch upward from under his nebulizer mask. Niall sees him mouth his name but there's only a hint of a whisper that passes his lips. Niall grins.

"Hey, Hersh," Niall makes his way over to the guest chair that's next to the bed and takes Harry's freezing cold hand. "I missed ya, bud. Gave us a big scare back home."

Harry looks confused and wordlessly mouths _Us?_ at Niall's statement.

Shit, he already messed up. "Us, yeah. Um, I was havin' a friend over for a movie night and he came early. I didn't know he was coming so soon, but, to be honest, I'm kinda glad he did. I don't know what I would have done if I had to see you like that by myself."

Harry looks genuinely remorseful when he realizes how bad he must've scared his best friend. He squeezes Niall's hand in hopes of getting his apology across. He's still too drugged up to feel embarrassed that Niall and some stranger had to see him like that. That'll definitely hit him later, though. 

Shaking his head, Niall replies with a gentle, "No apologies, Haz."

Their sweet, albeit one-sided, conversation is halted when the same nurse from the waiting room knocks.

"Hiya, Mr. Styles," his voice is too cheerful. "How're we feeling?"

Harry pushes himself up against the pillow to try to sit up straighter. He feels it's more respectful. He weakly lifts his hand and gives a small thumbs up. Niall wants to chuckle as the contradiction of giving a thumbs up with the same hand that has an IV in it. But that's just Harry; always making sure he's okay to make other's lives easier.

"Good, good. I'm glad you're feeling better. I just wanted to check in and keep you updated on everything. Your chest x-ray came back and there's no sign of a puncture in either lung, though there is slight bruising on your right lung which we assume to be from the intercostal muscle strain. Your chest and ribs will most likely be tender and sore for the next few weeks, so if it's possible, try to take it easy..."

It's obvious that Harry isn't absorbing any of the information the nurse continues to spew at him, so Niall makes a conscious effort to listen closely and carefully for him. He's just grateful Harry made it out of this with only some bruising and pulled muscles. Louis will be glad to hear the news as well.

Speaking of Louis, the nurse ends his spiel with "Oh, and the boy outside is welcome in, by the way. There's no visitor limit so long as it's visiting hours."

Niall freezes.

Harry sleepily looks over to Niall for answers. 

"Oh. Thank you," Niall's short answer proves to be enough for the nurse and he leaves the room quietly.

"W-who– Who- is here?" Harry's voice is like a bumpy gravel road personified. They're the first words he has (semi-)successfully squeaked out since the attack and it's obvious. The crackling makes Niall's own throat ache. 

Niall briefly thinks about lying to Harry but when he looks him in the eyes, he knows he can't do that. Lying would hurt him more than the truth. He scratches the back of his neck anxiously before whispering a single word. "Louis."

Harry's reactions are slow and languid, but they're there. He shrinks into himself and takes his hand from Niall's. A feeling of betrayal sits on his chest and makes him feel like he can't breathe all over again. 

"I-I'm sorry, Harry. We were going to hang out tonight and I just...I didn't think. We planned it a while ago, before you were staying at mine, and..."

"'s ok'y," Harry tried to console, but he was too tired to hide the heartbreak on his face. 

"He was really worried about you," Niall adds. Maybe that'll help? "Wouldn't stop pacing and sit down in the waiting room. I don't know if I've ever seen 'im so worried."

"C'n he-" Harry cuts himself off with a wet cough. He tries to pull the mask from his face but his hands are shaky and fumbly. He hears Niall telling him to keep it on anyway, so he gives up, and continues coughing. He's convinced he can feel every single one of his ribs break with each seize of his lungs. He chokes on some of the spit that's collecting in his mouth and this time Niall takes the mask off. 

"Okay, okay," he soothes. "Let's calm down, yeah? Don't worry about the dribble, H, it's not a big deal. Just try to take a breath, I'll get you all sorted out. Do you want the doctor?"

Harry shakes his head at the question and is finally able to inhale fully. He brings his hand up to his mouth to wipe at the phlegm and slightly bloodied drool but Niall is quick to jump in with a tissue from the bedside tray. 

Another knock echoes into the room, followed by Louis' voice calling Niall. There's a flash of fear in Harry's teary eyes but Niall reassures him with a kiss on his cheek. "You okay? Give me one second?"

Harry nods and Niall opens the door, slipping out to the hall. 

"He's okay, he's fine."

"I heard wheezing–"

"He's alright, Lou. It's normal after his asthma attacks, you know that. He'll be okay. The nurse said there's no serious damage, just some muscle straining and bruising. He's just sore. They've got him on fluids and a morphine drip and he's got a nebulizer. He's doin' well, considering. Calm down, mate."

Louis wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans. "Right, sorry, yeah. It's just hard, y'know? Seeing someone you love hurting and not being there."

Niall ignores the use of the word love (for now) and pats Louis' shoulder and brings him in for a hug. "Ah man, I know. I'm real sorry you had to be here for this."

Louis shakes his head against Niall's shoulder. "Don't be. I just miss him, s'all."

"Maybe he'll want to see you. I told him it was you that was here, so he knows. D'ya want me to ask him?"

The color drains from Louis' face at the thought of Harry refusing to see him, even though he'd understand. "Ehm, okay. You can ask him, but just, like, don't pressure him. I completely get it if he says no, so don't make it a big deal."

Niall's eyes light up. "Of course, I'll be cool and casual, you know me," he nudges Louis teasingly. "He doesn't seem to remember what happened earlier and I don't think he remembers seeing you, just so you know. So..."

And with that, Niall goes back into Harry's room to ask him if he wants to see Louis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hii i hope youre all still here and liking the story! i've never really written a proper multi-chaptered story (im usually a oneshot kinda gal) so i hope the pacing is at least semi-ok???
> 
> youre welcome to leave any feedback or critiques in the comments! (but pls do it kindly im sensitive ᵒ̴̶̷͈́ ᵜ ᵒ̴̶̷͈̀) and leave kudos if you'd like to!
> 
> thank you all for taking the time to read my work, it means a lot. writing random drabbles has been a really nice escape and coping skill so seeing all your sweet comments and kindness is just the cherry on top <3 sending you all hugs!!


	3. wouldn't it be nice to love someone who lets you break them twice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The door finally opens and there he is.
> 
> Harry almost cries.
> 
> “Harry. Hi,” Louis attempts to break the choking silence.
> 
> Harry does cry. 
> 
> A single, pathetic tear bubbles over and falls. Louis’ voice. He had spent so long blocking the light, raspy sound out of his memory and now all of his hard work is ruined because Annoyingly Beautiful Louis is really here. He’s here and he said his name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick note before you read: i really apologize for how long it's taken me to post :( i've gotten a few lovely comments asking when the next chapter would be up and i feel so bad that im not better at being consistent for those of you who are still reading ahh. im a major perfectionist and i wrote and rewrote this chapter a million times trying to make it good enough. this chapter is a bit short and very dialogue-heavy so i dont think it's too great..but i think it's the best it's gonna get? so im challenging my perfectionism and im posting it anyways eek. i did my best tho and that's all i can do, so i hope it's okay! enjoy! (hopefully!)
> 
> (chapter title is from 'break my heart again' by finneas)

“No.”

Niall flinches. He was hoping for a different answer. “Are you sure? I don’t want to pressure you, but I know how much comfort Louis brings you-”

“Brought,” Harry cuts him off quickly. Louis is in his past. Louis isn’t here anymore.

“Of course. Um, but maybe having him here would help? And that way I can go back to campus and grab some things for you, in case you’ll be here for a little while.”

Harry pauses for a moment and Niall is positive he’s going to say no again or tell him to fuck off, but Harry takes a steady (read: wheezy) breath in and looks Niall in his eyes. Harry sees the pain and stress in his best friend's face. It’s obvious that Niall feels stuck and exhausted and Harry feels his chest tighten, but this it’s not from an asthma attack. This time it’s with guilt. 

“Okay,” Harry rushes out before he can think of the millions of reasons he should be saying no.

The relief that washes over Niall’s features is enough to make this bound-to-be-awkward situation worth it. Niall gives Harry one last peck on his forehead, telling him he loves him and that he’ll see him in the morning, and goes to grab Louis.

Harry waits and it feels like an eternity. He looks around the room properly for the first time and shivers. He was a bit preoccupied when he first came in –y’know, trying to fucking breathe and survive and all– and the fear of how sick he got was starting to make an unwelcomed home in his heart. Harry knew he has asthma, of course. He was diagnosed back as a kid, when he was left breathless and panicked in the middle of his primary school football match. The doctor assured his mother that pediatric asthma was very common, and he’d most likely grow out of it by the time he turned sixteen. Clearly the world hates Harry, though, because here he is; in the hospital, at 20 years old, with an annoyingly uncomfortable cannula on his face and an even more annoyingly loud IV pump hooked up to his arm. 

And not to mention an annoyingly beautiful ex-boyfriend right outside the door. 

The world _definitely_ hates him.

Harry’s stomach twists along with the door handle. They’re not the same bright, magical butterflies that often flitted around his tummy before. They were moths now. Dull and ugly. This feeling was much less desired than his old butterflies. He’s nervous to see Louis again. He really is. He doesn’t remember seeing Louis earlier even though he knows he was there. Niall told him. 

The door finally opens and there he is.

Harry almost cries.

“Harry. Hi,” Louis attempts to break the choking silence.

Harry does cry. 

A single pathetic tear bubbles over and falls. Louis’ voice. He had spent so long blocking the light, raspy sound out of his memory and now all of his hard work is ruined because Annoyingly Beautiful Louis is really here. He’s here and he said his name.

“L-L-Louis.”

Louis’ face softened. The reserved, shy expression dropped as soon as he heard Harry talk. He didn’t even sound like himself. He could barely croak out one word. This isn’t how Louis imagined reuniting with him.

“Here,” Louis quickly crosses the room to hand him the Dixie cup on the table. “Have some water, yeah? Your throat sounds terribly painful. Be careful, H.”

The way Louis so easily falls back into his role of caring for and protecting Harry does not go unnoticed by either of them. It had always been innate– knowing exactly what the other one needs and doing everything you can to do that for them. It was automatic to them. Loving each other was like blinking. It just happened.

Apparently Louis never lost that trait.

“Thank y- Thanks. For, um, h-helping. Niall told me,” Harry has to stop talking multiple times during the sentence to suck in a big breath. He never knew talking could be so tiring. “...Niall told me y-you were the one who, like, um, called. 999, I mean. So- yeah. I don’t know w-what would’ve happened if-”

“Don’t- Please don't finish that sentence. I really don't fancy thinking about that.”

Harry bites his lip nervously. He doesn’t want to think about that either, to be fair. Harry settles for a nod.

Louis briefly wonders how they went from being so inseparable to being barely able to hold eye contact. “I’m, uh, I’m glad you’re okay, Harry. Really glad.”

“Me too,” Harry whispers. It hurts less than talking, he realizes. He hopes Louis can hear him, he doesn’t have it in him to deal with the emotions of chatting with his ex-boyfriend for any longer than necessary. It hurts his chest just as much as talking does. 

The youngest shifts in the hospital bed and lazily points at the chair adjacent to the bed. “Y’can sit.”

Louis accepts the quiet invitation and relaxes into the uncomfortable old chair. His knee immediately starts bobbing up and down and his sneaker makes a hideous squeaking noise against the linoleum with each bounce. Harry always hated that noise. And it seems he still does, if the squinched face he’s making under the breathing mask is anything to go by.

He stops bouncing his knee.

“I wish I knew what to say,” Louis reluctantly admits.

Harry lets out a sputtery laugh. “That’s n-new.”

Louis smiles with him. “S’not often I don’t know what to say, huh? Always blabbering about meaningless shite, me.”

“Endearing,” Harry shrugs. Harry takes his time with his thoughts and finds himself less talkative than most because of it. He can still hear all the times Louis would assure him that he talks enough for the both of them. _It’s perfect,_ he’d say. _We balance each other out._

Louis hopes Harry is still out-of-it enough to not see his cheeks burning. Curse Harry and his beautiful soul. “Debatable, but I’ll digress. But seriously, Harry. I’m sorry I can’t fix this.”

“Y-You’re not a doctor. I don’t expect you to know how t’fix-”

“No, no. Not _this_ ,” he gestures to the room, then between the two of them. “This. Us.”

Harry freezes. “Oh,” he pauses. “Um.”

“You don’t have to say anything, H. I just hope you know that I do wish I could change this. I wish I could make it hurt less. Well, I mean, I don’t know if it hurts you, but it still hurts everytime I think of you. And I think of you a lot. I wish I didn’t ruin everything.”

Louis regrets telling Harry he didn’t have to say anything because he’s just staring at Louis with those bright doe eyes of his and the quiet is torture. He actually contemplates bolting out of the chair and running away if Harry stays silent for much longer. Is he really not going to say anything? Oh God, he messed this up even more.

“I feel tired,” is what Harry finally murmurs out.

Louis cocks his head at that. That’s...not the response he was expecting. “Oh? Uh, right. Do you want me to go? I can go and, y’know, let you sleep. I should do that. I’ll go. You sleep.”

“Don’t,” Harry grabs Louis’ wrist before he can get up. His grasp is weak.

“Sorry?”

“Please. Stay. Don’t leave.”

Louis desperately avoids looking into Harry’s eyes again. He can see them clear as day in his mind already. If he looks at him for too long, he knows he won’t be able to turn away for a second time.

One time was heartbreaking enough.

He settles back into the seat and sits with Harry while he falls asleep. He doesn’t leave.

As he listens to Harry’s laborious breaths and small snores, Louis’ mind drifts to the conversation with the nurse. Yet again. He can’t get the words out of his head. He’s trying so hard to not dwell on such a minute detail, but it speaks volumes. It feels like a knife to the heart; a haunting _told you so_. He can practically feel Grimmy’s stupid smirk. 

Was Harry really back with Nick? The question is a lump in Louis’ throat that’s urging him to shake him awake and tell Harry – _beg_ Harry – to tell him that it’s all just a misunderstanding. Maybe it was a mixup on the hospital’s side. They got confused and looked at an old file when Nick was his emergency contact. Surely that’s what happened. Harry wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t go back to Nick, not after how they ended. 

Louis takes a deep breath when he feels the familiar stinging behind his eyes as he fights off the tears. He will not cry over this. Harry is an adult and can do whatever he wants. 

The tears finally win, though, and Louis finds himself leaning over his ex-boyfriend in a shitty hospital room on a Friday night, crying over everything he lost. It’s pathetic, really. 

Everything he lost is right in front of him, but it's not his anymore. 

His happiness is right there, but it’s not _his_ anymore. 

-

When Harry wakes, the sky is still dark and the birds haven’t begun their singing yet. He’s not sure why he’s awake until his breath hitches and he falls into a coughing fit. He doesn’t think he’s ever been in this much pain before. He can definitely feel the bruising that the doctor had mentioned. With each cough, he can feel every muscle in his abdomen stretching and pulling in ways they shouldn’t. He feels like he just did a million situps and then immediately got run over by a massive train. He can’t do this alone. He manages to loll his head to the side and spots a sleeping Louis. He’s choking on saliva as he flings his hand at Louis, luckily successfully reaching him. Louis wakes with a start and his eyes go comically wide when he takes in the scene in front of him.

“Fuck. Harry. Shit,” he curses, reaching for the nurse call button next to the bed. “Oh, lovely, I know it hurts. Let’s try to slow your breathing, okay? A nurse will be here in just a mo’ and they’ll get you all sorted.”

Harry nods along but everything feels blurry. He’s having a hard time focusing on anything other than the searing pain in his chest and torso. He feels hot and sweaty, but so, so cold. He can see the shadows of two people now, but there’s bright red flashes every time he tries to blink. 

“Harry, hon, I need you to look at me, just for a second. Then you can go right back to sleep.” It must be a nurse. Maybe the nice older woman who inserted his IV.

His eyes roll when he tries to look at the nurse and he can’t seem to focus them. More fuzzy conversation is heard between who Harry assumes is Louis and the nurse before he feels the nasal cannula being taken off him. He panics more, knowing the small tube is the only thing that’s getting him any oxygen.

“Mmm, ah,” Harry groans, trying to get his point across that _Dear God, please don’t take that off, I need that_. He bats his arm at the nurse(?), almost hitting them in the face. 

“Okay, okay,” Louis’ voice is closer now. Clearer. He holds onto Harry’s wrists lightly, not wanting to make him feel stuck but wanting to protect the poor nurse from his frantic hands. “Careful there, H. We don’t wanna hit Nurse Molly, love. She’s here to help, I promise. We’re gonna take off the cannula and get you the nebulizer again. It’ll get you some medicine and you’ll feel much, much better.”

He’s still scared, but Harry will always trust Louis. 

He nods. 

“I’m so sorry, darling,” the other person - Nurse Molly, apparently - chimes in. “I know this has been a tough night for you, kiddo. We just want to get you feeling not so poorly anymore. You’re doing a wonderful job.”

The nurse manages to get the mask on the barely-conscious boy and gives Louis a reassuring smile and pat on the back before leaving.

“G’nna sleep now,” Harry murmurs through the mask. He turns onto his side so he’s facing the door.

Harry’s back is to Louis now, and he totally doesn’t overthink it. He tells himself that it’s not a big deal; that Harry just prefers to sleep on that side. But as he’s drifting off, the years of sharing a bed won’t let him forget that Harry was always afraid to sleep facing the door.

But it’s not a big deal.

It’s _not_ a big deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont really know where i want to take this story and if i want it to be more plot-driven or if i should just end it soon and keep it short and sweet. i fear it's getting repetitive so i'll either have to pick up the pace or i'll finish it next chapter. let me know if you'd want more from this lil au or if i'd be beating a dead horse trying to write more.
> 
> thank you, as always, for reading! this is a random pastime of mine that i mostly do for myself, so any comment or kudo or view is just the loveliest surprise. thanks for being patient and being here! i hope youre all taking care and being kind to yourself <3 much love. xo


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